


In Which Bucky's New Coat Threatens Steve's Principles

by Dandesun



Series: In Which Shenanigans Ensue [3]
Category: Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Bucky Barnes' Blue Coat, Crushes, Friends Have Each Others Backs, Frustration, M/M, Misunderstandings, Pre-Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Steve Has A Cold, Steve Rogers Has Principles, Texting, bucky is clueless
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-10
Updated: 2016-10-10
Packaged: 2018-08-21 18:17:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8255617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dandesun/pseuds/Dandesun
Summary: Bucky's new coat is extremely flattering much to Steve's chagrin. Frustration, moral dilemmas and shenanigans ensue.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This story takes place at the beginning of the second semester of the first year of Kirby & Lee College. So Steve considers Bucky an enemy and Bucky has no idea why. Life is so hard. Luckily, they all have friends who are helpful in various degrees.
> 
> 4/12/17: Formatting update because it was driving me crazy.

When the semester started after winter break, the cold was almost debilitating. Steve found himself working extremely hard to stave off sickness but his success was limited. His health has always been an issue, after all. Despite his best efforts, Steve succumbs as he always does and is laid up in bed for three days.

Sam, who never signed up for a roommate that got sick the way Steve does, is an absolute prince. He brings soup from the student union cafeteria until Jane shows up with some from a mom and pop hole in the wall that is apparently made by a hedge witch because, as far as Steve’s concerned, it’s a magical healing elixir.

That’s how Sam, Jane and Steve (and sometimes Darcy and others) wind up either holed up in Sam and Steve’s dorm room or at the diner itself on a weekly basis enjoying the best meals they’re likely to get away from home. But first, it helped Steve’s bout with a nasty cold and he was able to get back into the game quicker than usual. And that was a good thing because the bout of flu Steve had been hit with in November had left him scrambling to catch up before the end of the semester. He had gone home exhausted and under-weight, which was saying something in regards to Steve, but his mother and the various neighbors (all of whom were just so proud of Steve and his scholarship) were happy to attempt to overfeed him on a daily basis.

He also had a slew of new scarves and hats because Mrs. Brewer and Mrs. Callaghan seemed to be waging war against each other for who could make the most scarves for ‘Young Steve’ to stay warm in. Mr. Buchanan, who owned a pub down the street, kept trying to sneak Steve some of his homemade scotch (recipe passed down from the Buchanans from Scotland before they even got on the boat, they’re very proud) in the hopes that it would help fight whatever infection might be attempting to curtail Steve’s scholastic and artistic endeavors.

Sarah Rogers often gave Mr. Buchanan a severe look when he tried but Steve usually wound up with a flask or two in his pockets all the same.

The scotch didn’t always work, though Steve dutifully tried it whenever he felt a scratchy throat, but the soup did and January ended up a different story from November due to Jane’s magnificent find. Steve recovered fairly quickly and could get back to the library for some study time.

And that’s exactly where he was when trouble walked in.

It was the coat that caught his eye. Cobalt blue was always going to catch the eye of Steve Rogers because Steve Rogers was an artist and that color was one he loved in a deep and profound way. Cobalt blue paint was expensive and precious and beautiful but this was a cobalt blue coat. A beautiful cobalt blue pea coat that was wrapped around a tall, beautiful guy with fair skin and dark hair and beautiful icy blue eyes and…

Oh…

Oh _fuck_ …

James Barnes. The beautiful guy in the beautiful cobalt blue peacoat was James Fucking Barnes.

James Fucking Barnes had noticed Steve staring.

James Fucking Barnes was smiling at Steve.

This would not stand.

Steve felt his face flush and he quickly turned his attention back to his book which was either about the meaning and interpretation of European art or about ponies. It was hard to tell given that his eyes weren't actually focused on anything.

James Fucking Barnes did not make him feel quivery inside because he was friends with that piece of shit Brock Rumlow and Steve did not find shit stain friends of pieces of shit attractive _at all_.

It was just the coat. The beautiful pea coat in cobalt blue. That’s what Steve liked. What wasn’t to like? It was finely cut, had beautiful color, the detailing was exquisite, and it set off a pair of broad shoulders so well. Not to mention shoulder length dark hair pulled back in a messy ponytail.

No.

And icy blue eyes.

 _No_.

Steve flicked his eyes back towards James Fucking Barnes to see that he was being watched. James Fucking Barnes gave him a friendly wave. His smile was not at all devastating.

Steve slammed his book shut and shoved his things in his backpack. He pulled his phone out and texted Jane.

 **Steve:** Where are you?

 **Jane:** Dorm.

 **Steve:** OMW

He stood up so abruptly he knocked his chair over. James Fucking Barnes half got out of his seat looking a little concerned. Steve shot him a glare and then stormed out of the library.

\----------------

Not for the first time, Bucky wondered what he did to make Steve Rogers, the prettiest (and angriest) boy he’d ever seen, hate him so damn much.

\----------------

Steve arrived at Jane’s dorm, flushed and flustered and nearly quivering with rage.

Jane and Darcy took in his appearance when he barrelled through their door and exchanged glances.

“What happened?” Jane asked calmly.

“Pea coat!!” Steve burst out. “Blue! COBALT!” He slung his backpack off and kicked it.

It didn’t go very far.

“Hair!” Steve shook his fists. “Eyes!” He flopped face first onto Jane’s bed and whimpered.

Jane shrugged at Darcy. “Um… Steve?”

Steve growled something into her bedspread that was muffled beyond comprehension.

“Okay,” Darcy sighed. “You are going to have to try communicating like a human being because your current state, Rage in Technicolor, isn’t cutting it.”

Steve rolled over. “James Fucking Buchanan.”

“Ooooh…” the girls nodded in unison.

“What did he do this time?” Jane asked, sitting next to Steve on the bed and patting his leg.

“He came to the library.”

They waited.

Steve stared at the ceiling. He was picturing James Fucking Buchanan in that beautiful pea coat that made everything about him sparkle. He fucking sparkled. Shit stain friends of Brock Rumlow had no business sparkling… no matter how blue their eyes were, or how beautiful their hair was, or how tempting their chin dimple was.

“That’s it?” Jane asked. She sent a questioning look towards Darcy.

Darcy just shrugged.

“He’s got a coat.”

“A coat,” Jane nodded encouragingly.

“It’s blue.”

“Blue,” Darcy confirmed.

“Cobalt blue.”

“I’m guessing that distinction is an artist thing?” Darcy pulled out her phone to Google it and then nodded. “Oh, that’s pretty.” She showed the search result to Jane.

Jane gave a perfunctory nod. She knew what cobalt was. She was a science major, for crying out loud. “So, James Barnes…”

“James Fucking Barnes,” Steve corrected.

“James Fucking Barnes,” Jane parroted, “has a new cobalt blue coat?”

“Yes.”

“A pea coat,” Darcy supplied from Steve’s outburst when he first came in. She showed her phone again to show the results of ‘cobalt blue men’s pea coat.’

Jane leaned forward to get a better look then held her hand out so she could bring it in up close. She scrolled through some of the pictures and handed it back before looking down at Steve. “Did he look good?”

“No,” Steve said immediately, continuing to stare up at the ceiling. The flush on his cheeks suggested otherwise.

“Steve,” Darcy’s voice pitched higher in excitement. “Do you have a crush on a bad boy?”

“No!” Steve sat up so quickly he gave himself a bit of a head rush. “No! I do not. Do you know why I do not?”

“Um.”

“Because I have principles!” Steve stood up and paced the room. “Principles! James Fucking Barnes is friends with that piece of shit Rumlow and we all know what Rumlow is about!”

Darcy and Jane nodded. Jane looked slightly queasy as she always did when the subject of Brock Rumlow came up but she recovered quickly.

“So, no, I do not have a crush on the guy who’s friends with the guy who tried to hurt Jane. I would never do that!”

“Because you have principles,” Darcy finished.

“Yes! This isn’t some bullshit fictional ‘Oh, if I love him enough, he won’t be a complete garbage person anymore’ thing when you watch a pretty douchebag on TV. It’s just a nice coat! It has nothing to do with his hair!”

“Of course not,” Jane shot Darcy a Look.

“His hair is not that special!”

“Sure,” Darcy agreed with the exaggerated patience of someone talking to a crazy person.

“Don’t take that tone with me,” Steve wagged his finger at Darcy. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing there.”

Darcy sighed. “Steve. Am I really the one you want to be fighting?”

“I’m not fighting!” Steve bellowed then checked himself. “I’m fine. Everything’s fine. I’m going back to my dorm to study.” He took his backpack and stalked out before returning immediately. “Principles!!” He stormed out again.

Jane chuckled slightly. “He’s a good friend.”

“Do you think he’d be that angry if he got laid a bit more?”

“Steve gets laid plenty,” Jane shook her head. “Believe me, that’s not the issue.”

“Really?” Darcy looked surprised. “How much is plenty?”

“Plenty,” Jane confirmed. “You’re poli-sci. You don’t know.”

“You’re science,” Darcy pointed out. “How do you?”

“Because we’re close. There’s at least two dancers, a sculptor and a life art model.”

“In one semester?” Darcy looked impressed.

“Hook ups,” Jane said. “Pent up sexual energy is not something Steve suffers from. Although…” she tapped her chin thoughtfully. “It probably wouldn’t hurt to call up one of his dancers to burn off some of his--”

“Principles?” Darcy grinned. 

“He won’t,” Jane smiled. “He’s just getting over a cold after all. That probably isn’t helping his temper, to be honest. Still, it’s nice that he’s so loyal. He’s a good friend.” The last bore repeating because it was true.

“He is,” Darcy agreed. She looked pensive for a moment. “But have you ever noticed Barnes when he’s got a face full of angry Steve? He looks confused.”

“Does he?”

“Yeah, like he has no idea why Steve’s so angry.”

“Well, Rumlow certainly doesn’t think he did anything wrong,” Jane pointed out. “Maybe Barnes is the same way.”

“No,” Darcy was certain. “It’s not the same at all. You can tell Rumlow knows _exactly_ why we hate him… he doesn’t _care_ about it but he knows _why_. Barnes doesn’t. Plus, he’s obviously crushing hard on Steve.”

Jane looked skeptical. Not about someone crushing on Steve, that she had no trouble believing. Steve was adorable and beautiful and heroic and talented. There weren’t enough people crushing on Steve as far as she was concerned. She wasn’t too sure about a friend of _Rumlow’s_ crushing on Steve, though. That seemed far-fetched.

“I am something of an expert in the area of crushing,” Darcy said proudly. “I have many many years of crushing, requited and un, under my belt. I know what it looks like. Barnes has got it bad for Steve and has no idea why Steve hates him. It’s… it’s almost sad.”

“Darcy,” Jane warned. “Do not attempt to play matchmaker here. _You_ might wind up with a face full of angry Steve! Or worse…”

“Disappointed Steve,” Darcy’s shoulders drooped. “Yes. _The worst_.” Steve was about the same size that Jane was, give or take, but his disappointed face was monumental. If he turned the full force of it on someone Darcy was convinced future generations would feel it. “Okay. I won’t meddle.”

Jane raised an eyebrow.

Darcy squirmed. “Much?” She huffed. “There are things that need finding out Jane!”

“Be careful,” Jane said seriously. “Those guys are trouble.”

\----------------

The next day, James Fucking Barnes was already at the library. The beautiful pea coat was draped over the back of his chair which did nothing to allay the way it set off his dark hair. He saw Steve come to claim his regular spot at the next table, smiled and waved.

Steve’s expression turned stormy then stony. But no one with glossy hair and a chin dimple was going to get between Steve and his hard earned education; no matter how beautiful their coat was. And why was this douche trying to be friendly? What was that even about?

No one could say that Steve Rogers couldn’t use his stubborn tenacity for positive affect. He focused on his books and was soon deep in concentration, surroundings and James Fucking Barnes forgotten.

\----------------

If only Steve Rogers wasn’t so damned beautiful.

Bucky took the opportunity to observe because Steve was laser focused on his work and seemed to forget that there was anything or anyone around him. Convenient, since it gave Bucky the chance to obsess up close and personal. He would describe Steve’s face as… ethereal. And then he would laugh at himself for being so poetic.

But Steve’s face really was ethereal… with the big eyes and pale skin and the perfect lips and the eyelashes. The eyelashes! And the way the corners of his mouth turned down in concentration or turned up in triumph when… well, Bucky didn’t know exactly when that happened because he didn’t know Steve but he wanted to be able to predict the upturn or downturn of his perfect lips. And that was to say nothing of the glasses that made his big eyes even bigger or the hearing aid that Bucky really just wanted to know about.

Then there was the rest of him! The most fascinating thing about Steve was that he didn’t just fit to some preconceived mold. He looked like a hipster but he didn’t care about anything ironically. In fact, Steve Rogers seemed to be the living embodiment of sincerity. Sincerity and anger and righteous indignation. His hands were a little too big for his frame but they were long fingered and expressive. His eyes were large and beautiful but also sharp and fierce. Even though Bucky’s schedule was quite different from Steve’s, it hadn’t taken Steve long to develop a reputation for himself on campus, and Bucky had heard a lot about Steve. Some said he was a loud mouth, others said he stuck up for anyone who needed it. 

Bucky admired that.

And it remained a mystery to him why Steve hated him so much. Bucky really wasn’t used to being hated so thoroughly for what, as far as he knew, was no reason at all. He hadn’t done a damn thing to Steve or any of his friends but they all looked at him like he had committed genocide right in the middle of the quad. Maybe he shouldn’t care but Bucky’s own sense of justice wouldn’t allow him to just let it go and move on.

Plus… Steve Rogers was just so fucking pretty. How was he supposed to just move on with his life when big blue eyes like that existed? They were even beautiful when filled with loathing and scorn… what must they be like filled with admiration and desire?

Bucky sighed. There had to be a reason for all of this.

The best theory he could work up was that he had an evil twin roaming the campus doing horrible things in his name. Admittedly, it wasn’t the best theory but it was honestly the only thing that remotely made sense.

But how to prove it?

\----------------

If Steve had waited just a second more to tear his eyes away from his book to rub them he might have been able to get away unscathed.

As it happened, he took his glasses off to rub his eyes and put them back on just as James Fucking Barnes leaned back in his chair to stare up at the ceiling. It just happened that James Fucking Barnes tilted his chair back and spread his legs just so that one knee was pointed straight at Steve and Steve’s treacherous eyes followed the line of James Fucking Barnes’ denim encased thigh straight to his crotch.

If Steve’s treacherous eyes weren’t bad enough, his treacherous mind was even worse because he could easily imagine James Fucking Barnes’ hand sliding up the thigh, sliding around the inner part to draw the eye to the bulge that was growing… the other hand also sliding across to frame what Steve could not seem to tear his eyes away from. Or maybe he could to look up into that much too handsome face to see those lips turned up into a teasing smile, that silky dark hair falling over his eyes, those light blue eyes burning with desire… 

At which point, Steve pretty much gave up on himself as a human being. These were not the sort of things a decent person thought about in regards to anyone who was friends with that piece of shit Brock Rumlow. Steve was best friends with Jane and it had all started because of that piece of shit Rumlow trying to do one of the worst piece of shit things someone could do. And now Steve was staring at his friend’s crotch like he wanted to camp out there or something.

Now Steve had a headache.

And he was still staring at Barnes’ crotch.

And it had been noticed.

James Fucking Bar--- no, no no no, Steve could not refer to Barnes that way when he, Steve Rogers, was currently the one in the wrong.

How could one stupid coat cause so much emotional turmoil?

Barnes was still staring back at him. Steve had, thankfully, had the presence of mind to tear his eyes away from Barnes’ crotch but now had no idea where to look because he just didn’t feel right levelling a confrontational stare into Barnes’ eyes. Not when _he_ was the one doing the lewd and deeply inappropriate staring.

Still, he chanced a quick glance.

Barnes looked puzzled. 

Steve supposed that made sense. They’d never had any interaction that hadn’t involved him glaring daggers or spitting in rage at Barnes and now he’d been caught staring at his crotch. Steve was officially a cliche, lusting after someone with no morals whatsoever. He dropped his head on the table with a groan.

\----------------

Steve Rogers was officially a detriment to Bucky’s ego. It was bad enough to not know what the hell he’d done to make the guy hate him in the first place but now… 

Well, first he’d shaken out of his own musings involving how best to trap a previously unknown evil twin, to see that Steve Rogers was staring at him.

At his crotch, actually.

And that was a really weird thing to happen in a library as far as Bucky’s experience went. A club? Sure. A library? Not so much. Not only that but getting stared at in that way by a guy who generally had nothing but disdain for him was something of a bizarre shift. There was also the case of, well, Bucky could tell he wasn’t necessarily being ogled as a prelude to getting asked out because Steve just hadn’t been present at all in the moments he was staring.

Bucky had actually been horrified at the thought that he might have popped a boner without realizing it. He didn’t think he had to worry about that since hitting puberty and all of the inconvenient boners that popped up whenever the wind changed. But he had checked and everything was behaving down there so he was left feeling really confused about everything.

Which is when Rogers snapped out of whatever reverie he was in and looked embarrassed, horrified and disgusted.

That had felt good. And by ‘good’ he meant not at all. Not for the first time, Bucky wondered why he continued this fascination with Steve Rogers because it was really fucking with him. He should be more than a little annoyed at the inappropriate staring at the inappropriate parts in the very inappropriate library and he was… a little. But then Rogers looked horrified and maybe Bucky could convince himself that Steve was bothered by his own inappropriate behavior and that was actually kind of sweet.

Also, the word ‘inappropriate’ was beginning to sound weird in Bucky’s head. He needed to stop using it for a week.

Rogers picked his head off the table and sneezed loudly twice in succession. Then he fished an honest-to-God handkerchief from his pocket and Bucky was right back into ‘everything he does is adorable’ mode. If Steve Rogers carried an actual handkerchief around with him in high school he probably got his ass kicked on the regular.

It made sense with the confrontational guy he was but it was also so cute that Bucky snorted softly as he tried to picture younger Steve blowing his nose on the playground. Or between classes. Or just in general. And all of it was too fucking cute to even believe. This was why Bucky was unable to write this crush off.

Unfortunately, the snort drew Rogers’ attention and not in a good way. The hesitation disappeared immediately and that fiery indignation was back in full force.

“Steve?”

Sam Wilson showed up quite out of nowhere. His eyes took in the two of them and narrowed slightly but then narrowed even more when he focused on Steve. “Dammit, Rogers,” he hissed. “You pushed too far too fast… look at you.”

“Back off, Sam,” Steve sniffed, turning to gather his things and resolutely not looking at Bucky.

Bucky studied Steve and did see that he was noticeably paler all of a sudden. “Hey,” he managed, his voice much rougher than he intended it, “you look kinda tired? Maybe you should get some rest?” The statements came out more like questions because Steve’s demeanor shifted into that towering inferno of rage with every syllable Bucky said.

“Did I fuckin’ ask you?” Steve snarled and then stormed out, even leaving his friend Sam behind.

Sam was now looking at Bucky with some confusion.

Well, there was plenty of _that_ to go around. 

Bucky stood up and leaned over the table. “Just… just tell me what the hell I did!”

Sam’s brow furrowed but he didn’t say anything. He regarded Bucky silently for a moment and then turned to chase after Steve.

Bucky sank heavily back into his chair and then got his phone out.

 **Bucky:** Is it possible to have an evil twin you don’t know about?

 **Tony:** That’s an amazing idea and I’m using it the next time I get into trouble.

 **Bucky:** No, seriously.

 **Tony:** Seriously! Best excuse I’ve heard in a long time. It’s mine now.

 **Natasha:** You’re both idiots.

 **Bucky:** I’m serious!!!

 **Natasha:** Why do I get the feeling that this is about Steve Rogers?

 **Thor:** Because everything is.

 **Tony:** You’re one to talk. How’s your embarrassing and futile crush on Jane Foster going? You and Barnes are, collectively, the saddest of the sad.

 **Thor:** You’re plotting to use an evil twin excuse and we’re sad?

 **Natasha:** No, he’s right. You absolutely are.

 **Tony:** I don’t have ridiculous crushes on two hobbits.

 **Thor:** Jane is not a hobbit.

 **Bucky:** Pretty sure Steve isn’t either. I don’t think he eats enough to qualify. Thor does, though.

 **Tony:** Thor is also seven feet tall. That definitely disqualifies him. Do either of them live in a hole in the ground?

 **Natasha:** Is this seriously what the conversation has turned into?

 **Tony:** Don’t pretend you’re surprised. You’ve seen weirder.

 **Natasha:** What happened?

 **Bucky:** I want to know why Steve hates me! Also, he stared at my crotch today. It was… weird?

 **Thor:** Do you not know if it was weird or not? I’ll go on record saying it’s weird.

 **Tony:** Did you have a boner?

 **Bucky:** NO!

 **Tony:** Are you sure?

 **Bucky:** There was no boner involved. I checked.

 **Natasha:** The sad thing is that Steve Rogers staring at your not boner is the most action you’ve had since coming back from the break.

 **Bucky:** Not the point. Can we please try to figure out why he hates me?

 **Tony:** So he can have the opportunity to stare at an actual boner? That you have for him?

 **Bucky:** Ideally, he’d be doing more than stare.

 **Thor:** I don’t want another list of the things you want him to do to you, Bucky.

 **Natasha:** I found it enlightening.

 **Thor:** Not when we’re eating. It completely ruined second breakfast for me the other day.

 **Tony:** I love it when a joke comes full circle. Also, word on the street is that Jane Foster is a big Tolkien fan so maybe you should ask her out to second breakfast. Then you’ll be in like Flynn.

 **Natasha:** That’s not a bad idea. Providing your intel is good.

 **Tony:** It’s good. It’s straight from Bruce.

 **Natasha:** Then it’s good.

 **Tony:** If Thor asked her out in Sindarin then he’s golden. That is also straight from Bruce.

 **Bucky:** Okay, now that we’ve got Thor’s situation with Jane straightened out can we please refocus on me?

 **Tony:** Have you tried talking to him?

 **Bucky:** That doesn’t work. He hates me and I don’t know why. I need to know why so I can either fix it or prove that I didn’t do it.

 **Natasha:** Maybe it’s not just one it. Maybe it’s a whole lot of its.

 **Bucky:** I haven’t done anything!

 **Tony:** You didn’t pop a boner when he stared at your crotch. I’d be insulted if you did that to me.

 **Natasha:** That means nothing, Tony. You get insulted over the most idiotic things.

 **Bucky:** Never stare at my crotch, Tony. Just… don’t.

 **Tony:** How dare you.

 **Thor:** I have an idea.

 **Tony:** You should be honored and delighted were I to choose to stare at your crotch.

 **Bucky:** Thor, for the love of God, tell me your idea.

 **Thor:** Rasputin is in the art department. I’ve seen him hanging out with Steve a time or two. He might know.

 **Natasha:** Piotr Rasputin is as observant as a boulder. That’s a terrible idea.

 **Thor:** Thanks.

 **Natasha:** I have someone in mind who might be able to provide some useful intel.

 **Tony:** Stop talking like a spy. It’s weird.

 **Bucky:** Who?

 **Natasha:** I’m not saying until I have a better idea.

 **Bucky:** It’s not Clint, is it?

 **Natasha:** No.

 **Bucky:** All right. This better work.

 **Natasha:** If it does, then your precious Steve Rogers will soon be staring at your crotch with his mouth.

 **Bucky:** Yeah, that doesn’t make any sense but I get what you’re trying to say. So, thanks, I guess.

\----------------

Steve’s head was pounding. It was obvious he pushed himself too far too fast and now his cold was slapping him upside the head with it. He didn’t need Sam to do it, too.

“I’ll get Jane to bring some soup by,” Sam said cheerfully as they headed back to their dorm. “But as soon as we get back, you’re going to bed.”

“Don’t need a mother hen, Sam,” Steve groused.

“Yeah, what was I thinking? You take such amazing care of yourself.”

“Fuck off.”

“I love you, too, my brother.”

The most irritating thing about Sam Wilson was his ability to somehow negate Steve’s anger at him. Steve huffed a laugh into his scarf and shivered violently. On the upside, his backslide into a head cold could easily explain his out of character staring at James Barnes’ crotch. That was a definite relief.

The coat and the hair and the eyes were still a problem, however. It was just weakness due to the cold that steered him to the lowest common denominator and crotch staring. Barnes did have really nice, large hands, though. His dick was probably a good size…

_No!!_

“I was kind of surprised to see you sitting with Barnes when I got there,” Sam remarked.

Steve stopped and glared at his friend. “I wasn’t sitting _with_ him. I was sitting _near_ him. There is a difference!” He sniffed loudly and took a few steps before stopping again. “And that coat means nothing to me!”

“Sure it doesn’t,” Sam had no idea what Steve was talking about.

“It’s just a coat. It’s just… you know… _blue_. And it’s just… you know… _hair_ … and eyes.”

“Are you having a stroke?”

“No, I am not having a stroke but you know what I _do_ have?”

“Do I want to know?”

“Principles!!”

“Okay,” Sam decided that Steve was edging closer to delirium so he didn’t question any of the ridiculous things coming out of his mouth. And since they were back at the dorm, it was easier to turn Steve’s electric blanket on and get the electric kettle going to make some tea. Sam insisted it was for himself but he would be nice and share with his roommate. Steve knew it was a load of crap but didn’t argue. He settled under the covers with a miserable sniff and a sigh.

 **Sam:** Steve ramble onto either of you about principles, coats, hair and the color blue?

 **Jane:** I have the soup. I’m on the way. And yes.

 **Darcy:** Was James Fucking Barnes anywhere in the vicinity?

 **Sam:** He was.

 **Darcy:** Yeah. Steve’s having a crisis.

 **Jane:** Can’t text while I’m walking. Darcy… you handle this. I’ll correct later.

 **Darcy:** Steve may or may not have a raging hard-on for James Fucking Barnes. It’s causing him all kinds of moral issues. It centers around a blue coat. Did you see it?

 **Sam:** No.

 **Darcy:** Shit. Well… apparently it’s a thing now and Steve judges himself for finding Barnes hot in it.

 **Sam:** The hair and the eyes?

 **Darcy:** Did he mention the chin dimple?

 **Sam:** No.

 **Darcy:** He must really not be feeling well. What about Barnes? Did he say anything?

 **Sam:** That was the weird part. He asked what he did.

 **Darcy:** Really!

 **Sam:** Yeah.

 **Darcy:** Really!

 **Sam:** You just said that.

 **Darcy:** I have a theory. This is excellent. I have to think now. And plan.

 **Sam:** Plan? Plan what? What are you doing?

Sam stared at his phone but Darcy didn’t respond. He looked up when Jane came in and showed her the phone. She pursed her lips together briefly but shrugged. 

“What’s done is done,” she told him and then went over to Steve. “Hey, you, got you some soup.”

Steve hummed sleepily. “You’re so sweet, Janey.”

“Yeah, I’m a treasure. Sit up. Let’s get this in you.”

It was a testament to how good the soup was that Steve didn’t hesitate to follow her directions.

“You’re my best friend, Janey, you know that, right?”

“Yes.”

“I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you.”

“I know you wouldn’t, Steve. I know.”

He sighed sadly.

“Stevie, you worry too much sometimes,” she rubbed his thigh softly. “If there’s one thing I know, it’s that I can count on you to have my back. Always. Is this about the coat?”

“It’s just a stupid coat.”

Jane nodded and kissed Steve’s cheek back by his ear. “Eat your soup and get some rest. I need to read about quasars.”

Steve did as he was told (for once) and Jane waited until he was asleep to read the texts between Sam and Darcy. Her brow furrowed as she looked at Sam. “Did he really say that?”

“Hm?”

“Barnes,” Jane clarified. “Did he really ask what he did?”

“Yeah.”

Jane nodded and sent a text to Darcy. “Find out about Barnes. If you’re right… well, just find out.”

\----------------

 **Darcy:** I have a plan and I need your help.

 **Wanda:** Your plans are terrible. I want no part in it.

 **Darcy:** It’s for Steve.

 **Wanda:** I’m in.


End file.
